


Animus Possidendi

by Catspit, Inanna_Star



Series: Erratum Ad Infinitum Addendum [1]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Based on In Perpetuity, Bodyswap, Bodyswap-Induced Dysphoria, Content Warning: Possible Dysphoria Triggers, Emergency Backup Flug, I barely think it's dub-con, I don't mean to imply there's anything healthy here though, I don't think it's non-con, Mention of other characters in the fic this stems from, Other, Paperhat - Freeform, Self-Destructive Impulses, Starherd's Flug's-Bag-Is-A-Flat Headcanon, but i guess, dub-con, that turns into enthusiastic consent, you want emotional intelligence what are you doing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catspit/pseuds/Catspit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inanna_Star/pseuds/Inanna_Star
Summary: Trapped in a telepathic heroine's body, Dr. Flug winds up - forcibly presented as said heroine - at White Hat's Heroes' Gala.  Luckily, Black Hat crashes.  Black Hat's psychic toxicity aside, this should be the perfect time to warn him about the plot to kill him that Flug found out about, but...Well, at least it's a perfect time.---------There's a scene in my fic In Perpetuity where I went "this could really easily turn into sex but that's not the story here."  If that scenedidturn into sex, though, it'd wind up changing a lot of what happened after, and... here I am (with Catspit's help) creating an AU of that fic in which things turn out very differently.So consider this a chapter zero for that upcoming effort.  This is where everything changed.
Relationships: Black Hat/Dr. Flug (Villainous)
Series: Erratum Ad Infinitum Addendum [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123607
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	Animus Possidendi

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the beginning of an AU (or alternate timeline?) spawned from my fic [In Perpetuity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22358383/chapters/53414248). It branches from partway through chapter 15 of that fic, so for the full explanation of what's going on, read that fic (at least up through chapter 15).
> 
> To sum up: Flug's bag is a camouflaged eldritch brain leech that, should Flug die (which, unbeknownst to Flug, _happens_ ), will either reconstruct his body or take over another to turn into him, preserving all but the inconvenient (death) memories that would reveal its existence (and might be damagingly traumatic). The last time this happened, his personality/memories were accidentally copied into the brain of not only the target, but also a telepathic heroine. Stuck in her body/life, Flug uncovered a plot to kill Black Hat - but getting anyone to take the threat seriously, and getting home, when he's apparently a high ranking heroine, has been miserable.
> 
> But none of that has been as terrible as being entirely dolled up and dragged to the Heroes' Gala to impersonate her. On the one hand, White Hat is there, and might be able to help... on the other hand, it's White Hat. Trying to explain didn't go well.
> 
> Luckily, Black Hat crashed. Unluckily, psychically speaking, Black Hat is fatally toxic to telepaths, and the body Flug's in was already degrading. Also unluckily for this duplicate of Flug, Black Hat's here to party. Or maybe that's luckily.
> 
> \-------------
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS
> 
> This is porn. I know I, for one, think of a lot of what I write as porn, but this is actual explicit Tab-A-Slot-B porn. Just to be clear.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how to categorize it. It's definitely PaperHat, so m/m, but this Flug is accidentally in a female body, so it's also m/f. But m/m except for the squishy bits. There's also some dysphoria going on, so beware.
> 
> Also, I personally think it's only really dub-con if you grade on the curve, and non-con it ain't. Inevitably turns enthusiastically consensual but definitely not healthy. Definite self-destructive impulses (ty to Catspit for helping me figure out how to word it). But your milage may vary! Read at your own risk.
> 
> If sexual violence squicks you, you're going to want to skip this one. If m/f physicality squicks you, beware. If m/m relationship squicks you, what are you doing here? If unhealthy relationship dynamics squick you, how did you _get_ here?! This is _Villainous_ fandom for crying out loud.
> 
> \--------------

[Music: [Pretty When You Cry by VAST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOZ6ptqcbUc) ]

[Starting from partway through chapter 15 of _In Perpetuity_ ]

As he turned to leave the floor, White Hat caught Flug with the flat of his hand between the shoulder blades, giving a push forward. "Go on, then."

For a moment after he stumbled a step toward Black Hat, Flug only stood and stared, head swimming. He had to run, he couldn't - even if he couldn't feel the pain of it properly right now, being this close to Black Hat in this telepathic body was going to _kill him,_ and he couldn't - he didn't even know how long -

Fuck it. If this didn't work, nothing would.

Black Hat watched, seeing only an indecisive woman with pale lavender-gray hair and eyes to match. He was curious as to why White Hat would have singled out this particular wisp in a horridly overdone dress to present to him. A fan, presumably, and probably incorrigible, if White had become exasperated enough to cease trying to warn her off. Still, it was unexpected that White would do any such thing, and that made it interesting.

Flug straightened, head up, shoulders back, and extended his opera-gloved hand to be taken. There was no request to it, only demand.

Black Hat took his hand.

For almost two full minutes, dancing with Black Hat was a weirdly enchanting experience. Flug didn't slip or stumble if he didn't think about what his body was doing. His head was beginning to throb, heart pounding, but in the spell-like circles woven on the dance floor, he forgot that he had anything to say. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd been in this close of contact with Black Hat without it involving some variety of inflicted pain - had that ever even happened before? It was even difficult to recall the ridiculousness of the situation when all he could see or think about was Black Hat's perfect grace and how pleased he seemed to be - and it was a struggle to keep in mind that it wasn't actually _him_ with whom Black Hat was pleased. It was himself.

Nevertheless, the mixture of fear and envy and competitiveness from the others around them was just icing on the cake. It was almost like being himself again. Nobody else could get away with what he was doing. Nobody else deserved to.

...And then Black Hat spoke.

"I would not have expected a heroine such as yourself to be so deeply desirous of my company," he growled, flicking his tongue at Flug, scent-tasting. "I'm flattered."

"Uh," Flug said eloquently, suddenly blushing strongly enough that the makeup didn't entirely hide it. Crap. He had to remember what he was doing and not - not just fall victim to the moment, certainly not to the extent that Black Hat could _tell_ like that. There wasn't either time to enjoy out-doing everyone else right now. "Right. Listen, Lord Black Hat, sir, I need - I really need a - a - a moment of your time, please, if that's okay."

"Oh?"

"In private." This - this was just a distraction. Far too much of a stupid distraction.

His eyebrows shot up. "How forward!" He grinned again, displaying far too many shark-like teeth and at least one barely-visible fluffy house centipede. "And to think, so many were opposed to the liberation of the fairer sex."

Flug frowned. "What?"

"Far be it from me to deny a determined lady her request." He drew them closer together. "The boxed seats there would provide a lovely environment in which to _converse,_ would they not?" 

"What?" Flug said again, trying to follow. "Er - yeah." He glanced up at the individual balconies high on the walls, sheltered from each other and the dance floor. "Yes, that looks good."

Black Hat grinned wide, whirling them to the music. "Dancing is overrated," he laughed. Shadow was abruptly caught up into their movement, curling up around them in the space of a second, and they vanished.

They spun out of the dark in one of the highest box seats, between the bolted seats and the door and divan at the back. Flug couldn't even re-orient himself before he was shoved against the wall, and he let out a startled squawk, hands drawn up protectively.

"They call orgasm the little death," Black Hat purred, pressing entirely too close. "I intend to _murder_ you."

"Wait, _what?!_ " Without thinking, Flug pushed with both hands. "No!"

For a fraction of a second, Black Hat was genuinely confused enough to accept being forced a step backward, one hand still in the act of loosening his tie. "No?"

Flug panicked; everything his life had been for years kicked in to remind him that he'd just done something that would get him killed, painfully. "N-no - I mean - I'm sorry - Please, I -"

"Ah, I see." Black Hat grinned, confusion resolved. He surged forward, slamming his hand against the wall next to Flug's head. Flug jumped at the close impact, his eyes and heart attempting to mimic a frightened rabbit's.

"For future reference," Black Hat said in a low voice as his gaze slid from Flug's face down to his throat and lower, "It would be more efficient to inform that you'd like to be forced from the start. I do understand the desire for plausible deniability."

Flug covered his face, trying to quell his panic; it wasn't helping him communicate anything at all, any more than the pressure in his head. "Please - s-sir - just -"

"If it would help," Black Hat murmured, leaning entirely too close as he ran his other hand along the side of the dress' bodice, beads and sequins popping off in the claws' wake. The dress was an absolute travesty of formal-wear, and he intended to remove it as quickly and violently as possible. "I can make you feel one of the seven deadly sins."

This was getting nowhere. Flug's head was beginning to throb even if the pain was still dulled by recent medication. "Is it wrath?" he muttered under his breath.

Setting both hands at the upper lip of the bodice (and silently lamenting that proper corsets had fallen out of fashion), Black Hat gripped, digging his claws in to account for the slippery-smooth lining, and pulled.

"...I bet it's wraAIGH!"

While there was no satisfying crack of whalebone, there was a loud rip and an impressive shower of sequins and beads. The cellphone that had been tucked into the bodice of the dress tumbled to the carpeted floor, entirely unnoticed.

Flug had covered his face - pressing, unintentionally rubbing away horrid makeup - but abruptly brought his hands down to slam against the wall pressed against his back, so startled that he could scarcely whimper. All he could do was stare for a breathless, dreadful moment of anticipation.

Since he'd found himself in this body, Flug had specifically been trying to _avoid_ thinking about certain aspects, but said aspects were exactly his employer's focus. With a smirk and a tilt of his head Black Hat set to one breast, taking a mouthful of the soft flesh to suck at, his tongue slithering in meaningless patterns around the hardening nipple as his teeth left pale indents where they closed. Reaching to give the other one a squeeze, the demon looked up – past the brim of his hat, angling his neck in a way no human could – and gave his quarry a look, as if daring continued protest.

Flug stared back, prey in a serpent's gaze, and felt something that definitely wasn't wrath.

He forced himself to breathe, actively trying to dissociate himself from his current physicality, but not even the foreign nature of his body could dull the sensations threatening to overwhelm him. He was trembling, helpless and sick and expectant all at once, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears. His head throbbed with all the presence of an overturned hourglass.

Out of ingrained self-preservation instinct he didn't try to force Black Hat off of him, but he did find words, his voice weak and wavering. "S-sir, I - this isn't - isn't what I m-meant -"

Black Hat would have grinned if his mouth had not been otherwise occupied. Fear bleeding into desire - expected, really. He had quite a reputation, one furthered by the many “respectable” people who didn't want it known that they'd come to him willingly.

Pulling off with a slurp and a pop, he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, entirely missing the trail of saliva that had escaped down his chin. "Rather particular, aren't you?" the demon asked, smirking. His gaze darted hungrily to the other breast, but he settled for only kneading it and rolling the nipple in circles with the tip of a blunted thumb-claw, enjoying the tension and small sounds that his actions elicited. “I suppose I should have guessed, what with that awful dress."

"Sir none of this was my idea, please j-j-just - haa -" Flug had seen Black Hat give things _that_ look before. He'd never thought that being on the receiving end would feel like this. By all rights he should be (even more) completely terrified by being eyed like food, but fear seemed to be malfunctioning at the moment. "-Ha - nnn-" Oh god, all he'd done was try to shift his stance and now there was something running down his leg, the damp flimsy-excuse-for underwear he'd been forced into doing _nothing_ to help. He tried closing his eyes against the mortification, but still could barely bring sound to his breath. "Hang on, I'm not -"

"Rougher it is, then!” Black Hat swept him into a bridal carry, turned on his heel, and made for the divan.

"- Ah!" Flug stifled the exclamation, involuntarily throwing his arms around Black Hat's shoulders as he was summarily picked up. Trying to remember what he needed to be doing was rapidly becoming nigh impossible. Trying to think at _all_ was rapidly becoming nigh impossible, with the demon's face so close that he could _smell_ him, all primordial predator and smoke. He was so close that he could see Black Hat's almost invisible off-color iris, and he wanted, wanted to stare, wanted to be the focus...

He _wanted._

Oh.

He flushed a deeper shade than he'd been already, suffering the horror of a fundamental shift in his perception of reality, and for a moment Flug couldn't make any sound at all.

Black Hat all but dropped Flug onto the divan, pushing his legs apart to slide between them. “Be as loud as you like, my dear,” he growled as he shredded the rest of the wretched dress away with deft claws. “I assure you, I won't mind at all if we have an audience.” 

Flug tried to swallow and only managed to make a choked little squeak instead. The scent as Black Hat stepped in and forced his legs apart, that was _him,_ wasn't it. This body that was his for whatever time he had left, broadcasting loud and clear things that he'd never let himself consider. "N-no! No no no no no d-don't oh no please -" Flug's voice came out in a desperate low babble as he was bared further, until he clamped his gloved hand over his mouth.

Black Hat rose up again and reached for his fly, and paused to stroke himself through the fabric of his trousers, clearly for Flug's benefit. Smirking.

Ohshit this was really happening. He wasn't ready. He'd never be ready. There was no way that he could adjust to this idea this quickly. He needed to think, needed to breathe, needed time -

There was no time.

God, it'd kill him if he somehow _could_ make Black Hat stop, now.

But then, it was killing him anyway, wasn't it? And it wasn't as though he wasn't already intensely curious on entirely different levels regarding Black Hat's anatomy, but - but -

Black Hat rumbled, something between the grumbling growl of a tiger and the bellow of a bull crocodile, and the corners of his jagged mouth twisted upwards. The sound shot down Flug's spine, obscene electricity pooling low in his stomach. It was increasingly difficult to think of anything beyond this impossible moment.

"I can't, I can't d-do this." Flug took as much of a deeper breath as he could, though he was shaking too much for it to really be effective. "S-s-sir, please, I c-can't -"

Regardless of the nervous begging and pleading, the body before Black Hat was communicating its feelings about the situation quite clearly. “Afraid we'll be seen?” the demon asked with a chuckle, not even so much as glancing over his shoulder to acknowledge the view of the occupied stage below. “Don't worry. No one ever looks up at these ridiculous gatherings, particularly not when they've got that toothpaste-colored buffoon to stare at.” The only danger, really, was that White Hat might be disturbed by what was going on at his Gala. Oh, the horror. 

Black Hat had gotten his fly undone, but paused there, gaze skimming down all the pale bare skin he'd freed from its cloth prison. His tongue flicked out once, twice, and then stayed out for a moment before being pulled back into his mouth. It left a fat bead of drool on his lower lip that rolled down to his chin. 

Flug made a small helpless sound, turning his face aside, ashamed at how much he wanted this in a body that wasn't his. Physically, he was begging. _Groveling._ Not that he wanted to think about what this would be like in his own body - though it would never have happened, he was sure.

“I've seen drowned men less wet than you,” Black Hat growled, licking his lips and leaning closer still. His other hand swept upwards from his prey's knee, gentle at first, then with claws dragging at the skin, then using only the pads of his fingertips as he pressed two fingers against trembling sex through laughably thin underwear. He stroked up and down, spreading hidden flesh open, leering and huffing short, sharp breaths through his teeth. 

Oooooh god. Flug squirmed, clamping his hands down on the edges of the divan cushion and pressing his shoulders back as though he could escape. He spread his legs a little wider - surely not out of want but because the thought of how those fingers would feel between his legs closer together was _maddening._ As it was, the sensation was enough to distract him entirely from high-pitched sound he made when Black Hat tore the fabric away.

"I can't," he whimpered, helplessly covering his face again with one hand, still bracing himself with the other. If he didn't have to look it - it didn't make it not real, but it - it didn't feel so badly _different_ than how he expected. He didn't have to think about it the same as if he could see it. 

“Oh, my dear...” Black Hat's voice was rippling black water and soft mud, a hundred thousand years of decay. It was gentle compared to his usual harsh rasp, but merely indulgent, not kind. He slid his hand beneath Flug's hip, lifting, lining them up. “Not to worry. I'll do all the work.”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit there was no stopping this and Flug didn't want to stop he wanted - wanted that, that _warm_ note in Black Hat's voice, wanting him back -

He couldn't convince himself it wasn't real - or at least not real in the way the part of him he chronically tried to ignore always wanted. There was nothing equal in it, nothing of being wanted the way he _really_ wanted, but - but he still - even with it not being _himself_ he just... wanted. Couldn't he just have a little of that last thing he wanted, before it was too late?

Flug made the mistake of moving his hand enough to glance down.

Black Hat's hand delved into his open fly, and after a second of breathless fumbling he pulled himself free, dark claws and torn gray leather glove a dull backdrop for the deep crimson flesh being revealed. He was dripping along the entire length, the pointed tip of his cock widening quickly into a shaft that was ringed in studded ridges. Fleshy-looking barbs pointed back towards the base, glistening with clinging liquid the same translucent green color as his saliva. It was intimidating to look at, but not impossibly large – and perhaps not as frightening as the rumors would have most people believe.

One way or another Flug was dying here. And that was definitely looking like "another", right there. His stomach gave a lurch that had nothing to do with the pressure in his head. That... if anything this body would make that easier to take, theoretically, wouldn't it? Didn't matter. Wouldn't be theoretical for long.

Black Hat didn't wait to be given permission. He shifted forward, bending to lap at Flug's chest – running his long tongue between soft breasts before veering off to mouth at the left one, drinking in the small gasping sounds his prey made. Nudging up against the heat of Flug's vulva, he ground his tip into the waiting slick with a growl, both hands holding Flug by the hips now. The taste of salt and skin, the smell of desperate arousal and sweat and cosmetics – he wanted to dig his claws in and claim all of it for his own, burrow deep and fuck himself empty and ruin this pretty creature.

But he wouldn't. That would be too easy. It wasn't part of the game. 

He sucked hard as he pulled off of Flug's breast, teeth scraping only a little against the underside, tongue wrapping tight around the nipple until gravity dragged it away from him.

He moved to lick and bite-kiss-suckle at Flug's neck; Flug tilted his head back invitingly, shivering. Black Hat grunted in annoyance when his mouth found the beaded collar instead of bare skin. He bit it and jerked his head as if tearing flesh, freeing Flug's throat in a scattering of beads and bruising of skin.

Flug gave a shaky little huff that might have been laughter in some other life. He couldn't remember why he'd been trying to fight this. He bit fiercely at one of the long gloves trapping his hands, scraping it on his face to drag it down and jerking his head to work it off, because there was no stopping and no way was he not going to _feel_ as much of this as he could.

His breath caught in a squeak as Black Hat rocked their bodies together for a moment, testing the angle – and then pressed himself forward and in, growling low at the back of his throat as he felt the heated body yield around him bit by bit. Flug's movements slowed with an uncontrollable shiver, eyes squeezing shut for a moment in concentration on the feeling, and he groaned into the glove's fabric in his clenched teeth.

And then he renewed his efforts with increasing desperation. He had to. He needed - needed to touch -

Oh, now that was a change! Black Hat glanced over for a split second, just long enough to see the glove being peeled off like a lizard's shed skin, and rumbled his approval into Flug's neck. Active participants were always preferable to - 

Flug's hand bumped his hat with a hollow thump as he pulled free of the glove. Flug shuddered and tensed. It felt like an electric shock, momentarily freezing him, every muscle tensed at once. 

Black Hat stifled a gasp by biting down hard enough to leave bruises where his teeth pressed. Fuck. The hat was supposed to be off-limits, but if he said something about it _now_ it would only draw attention to his reaction. Black Hat didn't miss a beat as he pulled back again and hilted himself in one long stroke, the more pronounced barbs along his shaft dragging at Flug's clenching insides with every shift.

Flug couldn't help it. His bared arm caught over the demon's back, clawing hard enough to catch a fistful of the cool fabric of his coat. His legs were shaking, nothing to brace against, and he whimpered, staring at the baroque warm-gold-pastorale ceiling and overly ornate fixtures and not really seeing anything because all his senses were trying (and failing) to compensate for the overwhelming slide of firm and weirdly _sharp_ on slick, and more, and _more._

He struggled to get his legs around Black Hat's narrow hips - no purchase with the awful stockings but he managed to get them dragged down a little and get his ankles locked together. Black Hat chuckled into warm, spit-slick skin, adjusting his grip to accommodate. The change in angle it forced was - was -

“Awfully bold when you want to be, aren't you?” the demon hissed. “ _I like tha-_ ”

His voice cut off with a grunt as Flug's body tensed, arching, bearing down on him... and the grunt became a snarling groan.

It was like trying to scratch an itch, and suddenly hitting it right, between the shift of position and the words. Flug didn't mean for it to happen - he was just suddenly arching his back in some instinct to have as much of their bodies touching as possible, giving a breathless raw shout that was entirely too loud, heat blooming from the inside out. 

Black Hat's grip slid upwards, leaving scratches everywhere his claws lingered. His hands settled on either side of Flug's rib cage, fingers pressing in and leaving pale marks. Fuck, that felt good. Slick hot muscle squeezing around his cock in urgent pulses, like the body beneath him was _begging_ for the gift of his pleasure being poured into it. There was a rapid pulse under his lips, fluttering close to teeth that could rend steel.

He shoved himself deep, not thrusting now but lightly rolling his hips. The noise didn't matter. The mess he was going to leave didn't either. The lack of any form of contraceptive never _had_ mattered, regrettably. There was only the bare skin under him and wrapped around him, his latest diversion gasping and shaking, and the bliss of base physicality.

\- It was fire bathing and burning everything away all over again, fragmenting and pulling and clinging and head tilted over the back of the fainting couch and holy shit _yes_ -

And then Flug was back to muscles failing and shaking and pain and everything was a little too much and he wanted to just fall limp and be held and hang on to the way that had felt - it was _different,_ exploding instead of being drawn out of himself - but he couldn't. It wasn't something that could last.

"Fuck," he whimpered, the corners of his mouth pulling wide as he panted. "Jefecito..."

Black Hat went utterly still, lifting his head from Flug's throat, and for a moment it was perfect, simply being tightly held - it balanced the way every sensation was heightened. Something tickled the back of his mind, some pressing concern or other, but between the throbbing in his head that he didn't want to think about and the languid haze of physical pleasure, he couldn't quite formulate the thought. He closed his eyes, and left them closed, because there was nothing to see that was anything like what he could _feel._ He didn't even realize that he was smiling. All he needed to do was _breathe._

There was a growl bubbling up in Black Hat's throat, but he bit down on it, huffed a snort through thin nasal slits and shifted his grip. One arm went around Flug's waist for support as his legs slipped. The other hand reached between them, found a breast, and squeezed - painfully - as he rolled the nipple beneath his thumb. Flug's eyes snapped open with a sharp cry, squirming, hands finding the strength to grip at his coat again, though the one still gloved slipped ineffectually.

Black Hat's grin was cold. He was going to get what he wanted from this, damn it.

No more holding back. His cock swelled as he abandoned any pretense of human proportions, until the pressure of Flug's pubic bone was nearly painful and he couldn't pull out more than halfway due to his own girth relative to a body unused to such. His movements were sharper, rougher.

Flug cried out again, and bit his lip. It wasn't - bad, though he was surprised to be able to think so this soon. But it was different, harsher, wilder. The goal was obvious and Flug found himself indescribably pleased to be part of it. The pressure inside him was intense - no amount of slick could ease what he took now. His entire body shook with the impact each time Black Hat shoved in. It hurt, and...

And he _wanted it._ It made no sense; it was _physical_ and this wasn't even his body. But _fuck_ he wanted to feel that moment when Black Hat peaked and emptied himself and _gave himself over to it_ and was for just a fraction of a microsecond wholly _his_. There was no other way that was even possible, was there.

Flug gasped for breath, groaning with Black Hat's motions like a puppet, and his blissful smile took on a distinctly manic edge. Fuck the world, fuck Black Hat (ha!), _this_ was worth dying for.

Not that he wouldn't still try to warn Black Hat if he lived long enough. But at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't remember what he'd been going to say anyway. As it was, he was hardly cognizant of the words that did escape his throat - generally incoherent, if accurate, combinations of "god" and "fuck" and "more".

Hauling Flug off the divan and relinquishing the breast he'd been abusing, Black Hat reached down and grabbed a handful of ass to support Flug as he moved for the wall. He didn't wait to press Flug up against it, moulding digging in painfully, before he was thrusting as hard and deep as he could, snarling incoherent threats into Flug's ear in between laps of his tongue.

"You dare - rip you open, snap your bones, suck the marrow - drown you in your own blood, you miserable - Mm -"

It felt like falling. The coldness had evaporated and he hadn't even noticed.

Fucking some random party-goer because they'd expressed interest was entirely common, though admittedly, not an unpleasant way to entertain himself. Black Hat had made a tradition of it, in fact. But this was different, unplanned, unexpected – he'd suspected he would encounter the psychic duplicate of Flug here, but certainly not in this context.

And he was going to kill this Flug at this rate, probably in more ways than he'd originally suggested, and Black Hat couldn't bring himself to see that as even an inconvenience. 

Everything hurt and was too much and was exactly perfect. Flug worked off the remaining glove, the better to tear at Black Hat's shoulders, and dug his heels into the small of Black Hat's back and let his voice rise. Let the pain come out as sound. Let Black Hat _hear_ what he was doing to him, just the same as Flug listened to the glorious litany of unholy things Black Hat intended to do to him. 

“- Tear you apart with my teeth,” the eldritch being breathed, rutting hard and clutching Flug against himself with bruising force. “Eat you alive... fffuck, I'm going to enjoy the way - way you scream -” 

Flug's fingers scrabbled against his back and shoulders, pitiful human nails barely even catching on his coat, but it spurred him on all the same.

“- break you, fill you with myself until - until you're begging me to stop -” 

This was something beyond sex, something he didn't know the words for – a connection. Not something as weak and useless as love, but... more than he'd expected. Two monsters finding each other in the dark and clawing their way into each other, perhaps, but this creature was - was already his - 

Flug's shouts and the few coherent words he managed were a heartbeat rhythm, filling the space around them and echoing off the walls until Black Hat could hardly hear anything else. He dulled his teeth and took Flug's throat in his jaws, and - 

And Flug was screaming in bliss, caught in the crash of a wave on rocks. Everything fuzzing out, ears ringing, wrapped tight around Black Hat in so many ways.

Black Hat was so close. Sharp, breathy grunts bathing Flug's neck in damp air with every increasingly desperate thrust.

There were no consequences at this point. No reason to hold anything back at all. No stopping. 

Flug's head was back, gulping air between his shouts, and he realized abruptly that his mouth was _quite_ close to the darkly musty scent of Black Hat's hat. He thought of newly formed earth, the underside of thick rain-soaked moss that delved its roots down to feed from its former self's decaying corpse.

With a bizarre lack of misgiving or hesitation, Flug brushed his lips against what should have been silk or wool felt or finely brushed fur and had never been any of those. He opened his mouth a little more - a feeling like numbness caused by lack of blood flow passing through him - and with all intention of gentleness closed over the edge of the brim, pressing his tongue to the material, one canine pressing down a little more.

Black Hat started to pull back, intending to bite at Flug's shoulder as he came, but hesitated at a sudden and unexpected prickle up his spine. It was immediately followed by hot, wet tongue against the brim of his hat, then tongue and teeth, and he could feel it, fuck, not just the inconsequential contact but the psychic charge that accompanied it. It shot through him in a microsecond, nearly indistinguishable from the slight pressure of Flug's canine tooth, simultaneously agonizing and electrifying.

An incredibly sharp, sweet pain stabbed through Flug's head as though he'd been shot in the teeth, and his mouth dropped open; his head involuntarily jerked back to slam into the wall, eyes watering.

Black Hat made a sound that he couldn't recognize as his own voice, face pressing hard into Flug's shoulder, and came, and came again, and gave a choking gasp that was nearly a sob. He felt slick from his untouched slit soaking into his pants.

And Flug was laughing, grinning madly. The indignity was almost too much, but Black Hat could only tremble, afraid that if he moved at all he'd crumple.

Flug had – had bitten the brim of his hat. And he'd cum harder than he could remember doing in a long time, absolutely powerless to control his reaction. He ought to kill the little shit for daring -

_This wasn't Flug._

_She'd_ lashed out at him too. Whomever was _supposed_ to be driving the body he was currently pulsing helplessly into. Psychic self-preservation instinct, or deliberate attack? Didn't matter. It was too precise for an untrained burst but still far from enough to harm him, obviously - 

Was his hat... bleeding? It stung where Flug had nipped it, just a tiny prickle, but that shouldn't even be - 

The smell of fresh blood was what began to draw Black Hat from his circling thoughts. He was panting, great shuddering gasps like his body actually needed the air, his cock still twitching and leaking, slit clenching around nothing. Too stunned to be angry, he kept his face pressed to Flug's shoulder and neck, listening to the human's strained laughter.

Flug couldn't quite _stop_ laughing, his voice coming hoarse and cracking and comparatively quiet. His lips were drawn so wide they hurt, saliva - or maybe blood? Had he bitten his tongue? - spilling from the corner of his mouth. There was definitely blood from his nose. The left side of his face felt as though he'd been struck, hard, but was numb at the same time - he was only getting echoes of pain in his scalp and the other side of his face.

"Fuck." It came out as a squeak between gasping laughs that seemed to be subsiding into giggles. His body _hurt_ now, all over, and in some places where it definitely shouldn't hurt like that. There was warm trickling from him, dripping back to where Black Hat's hand supported him, and he could only hope it was overflowing cum. That probably wasn't all it was. He could smell nothing but blood, but that might've been the nosebleed. Fuck, he was laughing harder again.

Nothing. Mattered.

He couldn't see. Everything was greying out, rainbow zig-zags that he couldn't see past arcing around the edges. It didn't matter if his eyes were opened or closed. They were watering, though, enough that it was streaking down from the corners.

Something mattered. One thing. His bare hands found Black Hat's throat, momentarily circling. Black Hat jolted a little, teeth unintentionally closing on a bit of skin that gave easily, smearing warm blood across his parted lips.

Flug didn't seem to react, and Black Hat had the sudden thought that he might have damaged the body too much – even a well-trained psychic couldn't stand to be around him for long.

The hands that ringed his throat for a moment moved, the empty threat becoming something far more alarming – intimacy. One hand spanning the back of his neck, the other lying against his face. Not trying to pry his face from broken skin, as might be expected, but simply... touching. Black Hat nearly dropped Flug right there.

"Y'should talk t'White," Flug slurred. It was enough to make Black Hat look up, finally, mouth streaked with blood and drool, eye a little too wide, the pupil still blown.

Flug couldn't even see it. It was taking far too much effort to make his tongue work and somehow it was making everything hurt worse. Something in his chest ached sharply, as though he'd been stabbed and was trying to breathe around an edge that sliced worse with every small gasp. "He knows 'nuff, told him, if he found her..."

He'd definitely damaged Flug's body more than anticipated, Black Hat thought. That was going to be a real inconvenience if White Hat decided to make it an issue. Killing someone at White's party wasn't exactly something that could be overlooked.

There was blood streaming from Flug's nose, mostly from the left nostril – that explained the intensity of the smell, at least. The eye on that side of his face was a mess of burst capillaries, the sclera entirely red, the pupil a little bigger than the right eye's was. Black Hat only stared at him as he continued to speak, watching the way the left side of his mouth moved as if numbed and how his white teeth were streaked with tiny red clots.

Flug's breath caught; he was having trouble making words at all now. "S-sorry, sir. I-I wanted..."

He trailed off. That was the problem, wasn't it? With every goal met, another one turned up. He had Black Hat, _had_ him, and it wasn't enough; now he wanted to stay, held close.

"'V'been here b'fore, haven't I?" He mumbled, and lost consciousness.

Flug went silent and limp, eyes drifting shut, leaving Black Hat feeling cheated of the opportunity to say anything in reply. It wasn't the first time that he'd let Flug - _his_ Flug - rest, held, as he died. It wouldn't be the last. It was nothing Flug should ever remember.

This - this wasn't Flug. Just a copy. An accident.

But this misbegotten thing wasn't going to last long. If the body didn't fail first, he'd degrade over a few weeks at most - less, with this exposure to Black Hat - distorting until something crucial gave out. He was a ghost, a fragment, an impression of the real Flug, soulless and useless and worthless.

Black Hat carefully extricated himself and settled the battered Flug-but-not-Flug down on the carpeted floor, tucked against the wall. It was unlikely that he'd ever wake up, so the relative gentleness was unnecessary, but mauling an unresponsive husk was equally pointless. Unsatisfying.

A few quick gestures returned his own clothing to pristine condition, and Black Hat swept out of the alcove in a whirl of shadows.

**Author's Note:**

> \--------------
> 
> And that is how an entire other AU started. Writing in progress.
> 
> I should probably add that this version of Flug is not dead. But this... really does change everything for him.
> 
> I've written plenty of *cough* explicit content but I don't think I've done anything quite like this (or that hit me like this) before.


End file.
